Demacian Dictator
by Cornonjacob
Summary: After the fortunate demise of his father, Jarvan the fourth or so is now king, and must continue the Lightshield line. Too bad nobody likes him except for Shyvana, who coincidentally nobody likes either. Watch the new king abuse his executive power in a stupid attempt to find a wife as Demacia spirals into spaghetti and madness.
1. Your Face

Jarvan the Fourth or so woke up one shitty Tuesday and got out of bed, setting one foot on the polished marble floor and the other one in Shyvana's ass, like one of those bunny slippers people keep near their beds, except Shyvana set herself on fire and was more toasty. Bunny slippers can't do that without outside assistance.

Shyvana came as if she were having a wet dream about her prince, except it was real. She was making one of those weird faces that look like someone sneezing and having an orgasm at the same time from one of those terrible hentai things. On the other hand, her aim was getting remarkably better as she had managed to spew her vaginal moist with one hundred percent accuracy into the little spittoon in the corner carved from a still living orphan. She was fine though because the prince always had his toenails manicured like some fruitcake.

But he wasn't the prince anymore because his father and former king, Jarvan approximately the Third, died from drinking from the toilet like a morbidly obese dog, that coincidentally also drinks from toilets. This normally would not have been a problem for a great ruler such as King Jarvan the Fourth's Dad, but in a drunken state, he had accidentally drank from the toilet meant for the servants and not the platinum and jewel encrusted royal shit seat with a handle made of gilded doorknobs and flushed with the tears of starving children that was built for his own personal use.

Naturally, the third Jarvan in a row died and flailed around a bit before they strung him up and beat his body until candy came out. Then the peasants paraded around Noxus with it and made the dead king moon them all because when Sion died and the Noxians beat him for candy, they got all this lame black licorice and salt and nobody wanted it. All the shitty candy turned into a giant monster. Jarvan the Connect Four Piece is now king, and he thought it was pretty cool.

"This is pretty cool." Jarvan conversed to nobody in particular as he put his new crown on and shuffled over to the royal bathroom, dragging Shyvana along with him by her anal passage. She left a wet trail of dragon taint juice that the poor janitor who needs to take care of his sick family would have to clean up and throw away later, unaware that Shyvana's love ectoplasm was worth a fortune as a magical ingredient that could pay for the treatment of his family.

"Oh shit, I need to go produce an heir to the throne before I die and all this candy comes out. Guess I'd better go fuck some girl." Jarvan shouted at Shyvana, who briefly entertained the hopes that she would be her prince's queen, but she quickly got real and remembered that it wouldn't happen because she lays eggs and that's kind of weird.

But Jarvan realized that his plan had a problem. Despite being rich and believing he is entitled to everything, nobody liked him and his family was cooler than he was. The prince was as pathetic as a basement dwelling virgin, except not as pathetic because at least he was a virgin in a big ass castle with a large spear to compensate. In a rare moment of intelligence, he remembered that as the ruler, he could now use an executive order. Unable to choose a bride from Rito's fanservice stock, Elliot Rodger I mean Jarvan used the most efficient, accurate, and most harmless method for randomization known to man.

"Demacia!" Jarvan shouted as he jumped out the palace window and impaled the family of the poor janitor mentioned earlier in one strike.

"D-Demacia!" The family shouted back as they raised their fists in the air as they slowly bled to death. The eldest son died first, drowned in the blood of his mother who was skewered above him. The blood ran down the cobblestones and inexplicably spelled a name, "Vayne".

Jarvan knew what he had to do. Leaving the bodies of the family behind, knowing that no candy would come out because they aren't important characters, the new king crafted a large megaphone out of some rope, a fleshlight, and a large megaphone.

"BRING SHAUNA VAYNE INTO THE ROYAL BEDROOM!" Jarvan screeched into the megaphone, shattering all the windows in Demacia and prompting the royal guards to begin breaking into the homes of the working class and destroy private property in their pursuit of Vayne.

"You wanted to see me, your majesty?" Vayne questioned the king before he promptly punched her in the face, breaking her lame sunglasses and her grip on consciousness. Jarvan leered creepily at her unconscious ass like some twelve year old.

"Ah yes, this entire situation is deliciously vain." Jarvan said to Shyvana, who laughed incredibly hard at his stupid pun in an attempt to flatter him so that maybe she could suck his dick. Jarvan's overblown ego inflated some more, and the half human half dragon all dumbass was no closer to engaging in fellatio with her crush.

To be continued


	2. Bruce Vayne

Vayne woke up really hard and noticed that she was tied to a chair.

"Shauna Vayne, will you marry me?" Jarvan asked while Shyvana stood behind him, quietly igniting a small kitten in unspoken rage.

"Is this your idea of a proposal?" Vayne asked, "We barely know each other, you don't have a ring, and you need to get on one knee and propose. You don't just knock someone out and ask!"

"Will you marry me now?" Jarvan asked again after following Vayne's instructions.

"Well it's too fucking late now, jackass! Besides, your stubble looks like miniature Urgot's and you smell like dragon vagina." Vayne responded.

"Your mom smells like dragon vagina!" Jarvan shouted back, in an incredibly mature and snappy way.

"My mom is dead. My parents are dead. I'm Batman." Vayne mumbled, filling the room with incredibly awkward silence.

While Jarvan was momentarily stunned by the remnants of his conscience left, Vayne activated Final Hour and tumbled. She was still tied to the chair though so she just fell over and hit her head again, but at least she inexplicably turned invisible.

"Where did you come from, where did you go?" Shyvana screamed as she ran forward and tripped over the chair, which had also turned invisible, and she fell out a window, turned into a dragon, and accidentally burned down at least ten buildings, including the fire station.

"Where did you come from Cotton Eye Joe?" Vayne sang as she was subconsciously compelled to do so, revealing herself, and worse, the chair.

Jarvan could no longer contain his thirst and tore off Vayne's clothes. Then he ordered a servant to bring him a glass of water to quench himself. Then he carried Vayne off to the royal bedroom.

By this time, Shyvana had successfully taken responsibility for her own actions like a good human being. She couldn't wait to tell Jarvan, who would be so proud and maybe finger her with his large meaty digits. Since the fire station had burned down and the commoners didn't have access to water, she had to show initiative and put out the fires with the blood of everybody in the local orphanage.

"Why do you even have a bunk bed? This is fucking stupid." Vayne asked from above as Jarvan tied her arms and legs to the bedposts at the top bunk.

"Garen and I had sleepovers as kids and we still do. We drink beer, watch football, have scavenger hunts where we find objects and try to shove them all up Shyvana's ass for our amusement, play board games, and even plan for war against Noxus." Jarvan answered.

"Just let me change into something more comfortable." Jarvan said as he sold all the cloth armors he was wearing, climbed the ladder to the top bunk, and attempted to insert his Virginia spear into Vayne's batcave, except it didn't work because they were on the top bunk and there was no space because they were too close to the ceiling.

"I told you this was fucking stupid. Can I go home now?" Vayne taunted.

Shyvana flew in through the window, setting the curtains on fire.

"ARE YOU TALKING SHIT ABOUT MY KING!?" Shyvana roared with the fury of a Bronze V player in solo queue.

Shyvana tore the ropes binding Vayne in place and slammed her onto the floor.

"THAT'S MY PURSE, I DON'T KNOW YOU!" Shyvana screamed to the heavens as Vayne got to her feet, before the half dragon set her foot on fire and kicked Vayne in the cunt so hard that her pelvis shattered and then also ignited, dealing massive amounts of true damage and applying Grievous Wounds to the huntress.

Vayne's cries of agony sounded like the largest group of sentient onions in the world who had made a suicide pact and begun slitting themselves on the onion body part equivalent of the wrists and making themselves cry with their own body fluids spraying everywhere.

"My tummy hurts." Vayne said before becoming completely ablaze and dying.

"Goddamnit Shyvana! You killed my wife and stole first blood! I'm reporting you! You're getting punished!" Jarvan shouted angrily in this strange nasally voice.

Shyvana started shaking and a river formed on the floor, starting in between her legs, but it was too late as Jarvan already had a glass of water.

Jarvan invited Garen over for another sleep over and they filled Shyvana's ass with water, spaghetti, and sauce, but Shyvana's dragon body was too hot and overcooked their dinner, so they went down the pizza place instead. They forgot to bring money, and when the owner confronted them, they made Shyvana shit out all the burnt spaghetti in front of everybody and the owner had no choice but to accept this as payment.

To be continued


	3. Ha, GAY!

Wondrous music, uplifting to the spirits and rejuvenating to the body, flowed through the courtyard of Jarvan's castle. The sounds inspired the the inner virtues of all and was the most delightful of tunes. Man and nature seemed to harmonize as one, through the conduit that was Sona's etwahl. Truly it was the song that angels such as Kayle would listen to.

"Boo! This song fucking sucks!" Jarvan shouted at Sona, interrupting the beats.

Shyvana jumped out the window from one of the towers above, smacked the instrument out of Sona's hands, then smacked Sona's face out of the position it was just in before it got slapped.

"Ha ha, you're so dumb you can't talk, ha ha!" Jarvan hooted moronically. As Shyvana faked immense laughter at Jarvan's poorly conceived insult, all of the bystanders in the courtyard ran away because they did not want to die to some bullshit shenanigans like being set on fire and eaten by Shyvana, have a twenty foot buttered flagpole shoved up their asses and through their mouths, or even getting stabbed.

Sona began to cry in response to her abuse, except it didn't really matter because the intense heat radiating from Shyvana's crotch instantly evaporated the tears, and Sona was not making any sound, so it pretty much never happened.

Sona attempted to run away from Jarvan and that other angry dragon lady on fire, but she could not move fast enough without being able to play the Song of Celerity on her etwahl.

"ONE PAAAAAWNCH!" Shyvana screamed as she lit her fist on fire and threw it at Sona's stupid Hatsune Miku face except she was distracted by Jarvan's small pants bulge and hurt herself in her confusion.

Shyvana made some funny gurgling sounds as her face caved in under the force of her own rage, followed by hilarious hissing noises as some of her teeth broke off and blood spurted out of the roots, as well as other crushed orifices of her face and sizzled in the fires dancing on her fist.

Jarvan's face blanched. He rushed over to Shyvana's side and scooped her up like a huge dog turd, before rushing to one of the few hospitals left in Demacia that had not yet been destroyed by either Jarvan or Shyvana. Sona said absolutely nothing because she is mute, like how mid lane was before all the silences moved to a better place. Despite her situation, she found it sweet that Jarvan truly did care for Shyvana.

"DEMACIA!" Jarvan fucking screamed out of nowhere as he landed on Sona and broke her knees, which then broke the ground around them. The force formed a crater with them at the epicenter, the ridges rising up and flinging Sona's etwahl far into the air as well as shielding them from view.

It turned out that Jarvan just wanted to bring Shyvana to the hospital so all the doctors and nurses and poor, sick children could laugh at Shyvana's stupid face and feel better about their own pathetic lives. Jarvan ran away as Shyvana transformed into an equally hideous dragon and began to tear off everybody's faces to burn onto her own lumpy head front in order to construct skin grafts.

"( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°)" Sona screamed really loud except she did not.

"Hey Sona, want to see my dick?" Jarvan asked as if there was even a chance of Sona saying yes. The probability of her giving consent, which would be astronomically low if anyone else in existence except for Shyvana had been asked, grew even smaller with the fact that Sona would not be able to vocalize such consent if it had even existed in the first place. Jarvan is a fucking moron.

Jarvan cut his pants off anyway with his spear like some kind of idiot and by some kind of miracle, he did not accidentally cut off his some kind of balls except not really because they were marbles. Sona stared at the one eyed trouser snake and it stared back. The maven went slightly catatonic and scrubbed her eyes out with her huge ass pony tails.

Jarvan threw down a Demacian standard onto the approximate location of Sona's vagina and prepared to use Dragon Strike to penetrate and get that free armor shred so that he could use Martial Cadence, but Sona's etwahl that had been launched upwards a few paragraphs ago fell down at terminal velocity and shattered Sona's head. Truly an act of God.

And then the etwahl exploded and sent him flying into Shyvana, causing him to elbow her in the face.

The impact made Shyvana extremely handsome. Even without the fire, she was incredibly hot.

"Eww, gay." Jarvan said.

To be continued


	4. End Me

The Jarvan that came out of the previous Jarvan's testicles and the fourth in the Lightshield line sat at the Demacian mobile command console, in order to initiate his duel winning attack against fellow noble Fiora.

Jarvan had decided it was a fucking genius idea to make himself look good by winning a duel with Fiora, and impress her enough for her to let him put his oui oui into her putain de éclair. Although it was admittedly a surprisingly intelligent plan, the largest hole in this undertaking was that Jarvan fucking sucked at everything. So far, after several hilarious ass whoopings from the Laurent lunges in the vitals, Operation: Fence n' Fuck was not getting either fence or fuck.

"Shyvana, now do you understand why I have to fire Demacia's entire nuclear arsenal and the biological weapons outlawed everywhere except for Zaun at Mrs. Laurent over there?" Jarvan asked his slave, who only heard about half of what her master just said through all of his crown prince cum clogged in her ear canals.

All the nukes fired at once and because Jarvan was such a fuckboy, it was a targeted spell.

Fiora did the thing from one of those anime or mango where the person just stands there or poses or something and then there is a panel or shot of their face or mouth where they smirk, and then they magically not get hit or block all the shots or something like that, but it was not magic, it was Riposte, the greatest League of Legends ability ever invented for granting the user the illusion of possessing skill.

I almost forgot to mention the part that comes after those anime dodge abilities where the attacking character expresses shock that their offense failed and they say or think something like "He's fast!", or "Such power!", or one of many generic responses.

"She's fast!" Jarvan exclaimed, surprised that Fiora had parried all the warheads. In his defense, I would be pretty fucking surprised too if some dumb bitch with a shit sword just deflected an entire country's nuclear arsenal back to their origin point with said sword.

And to top it off, her W stunned Jarvan for exactly one and a half seconds, because Jarvan was too mentally challenged to buy tenacity, so that was an entire one and a half seconds of relative peace for the world due to Jarvan not fucking something up.

The crowd control turned out to be longer than that as Jarvan was too in shock to respond, and Shyvana was unable to come to the aid of her dickheaded master because the radiation from the nukes had given her half-dragon cancer, which is very similar to regular cancer except for the fact that the tumors breath fire and have the instinctive urge to suck some jackass prince's chode.

As this happened, Noxian High Command was ecstatic that Demacia was nuked without them having to do it, and they sent some of their best dudes over to fuck shit up and take things for profit.

"We're here to fuck shit up and take things for profit!" Swain croaked out after he hobbled over to Demacia from Noxus as lightspeed, followed by Darius, and none of the other Noxian champions because none of them are the president or as big of an asshole as Darius.

Jarvan and Shyvana were still standing there like complete and utter morons, but Fiora was not having any of that horseshit on any day of the week, so she came at them like a 40% CDR monster and practically butt fucked the non-Demacian duo with her rape rapier. It was so bad that Swain could no longer walk properly for real and not him just faking it like he probably does all the time, and Darius shit his metal diaper but it was fine for him because he has a bee up his ass already. Regardless, the two idiots from another city-state left because nobody liked them either.

Jarvan and Shyvana were both in tears. Jarvan had never seen such a beautiful and perfect female fighter that had not been manufactured in the Mary Sue factory. Shyvana was sobbing because she knew that Jarvan had fallen in love with Fiora, because the look in his eyes was identical to the one in hers whenever she looked at Jarvan, except Jarvan's lovestruck look resembled a baboon with a horrible allergic reaction and Shyvana's expression was just her turning into a dragon, so they pretty much did not look similar at all.

BUT SHYVANA STILL KNEW.

And as Jarvan slowly crawled towards Fiora with his radiation atrophied legs, each and every cell of half-dragon tumor in Shyvana's body resonated with unearthly rage, and as one, as all, they screamed.

"JARVAN!"

"IS!"

'MINE!"

Just like every other League of Legends player in game who have somehow lost the ability to communicate in chat in complete sentences, and they're dead and waiting to respawn, or they're in champion select, or something like that so they do not even have the excuse of being in the middle of gameplay. Like seriously, what the fuck is up with League of Legends players, why they always gotta talk.

"JUST"

"LIKE"

"THIS?"

In chat, and it's usually in all caps too.

But Shyvana (and her half-dragon cancer) were far angrier than the League of Legends players who probably talk like that, and Fiora fucking shit her tights so bad, the weight dragged her down and she was snared for longer than Morgana's Dark Binding. The sheer fury of Shyvana's cancer was so devastating, the tumor burned itself away as fuel to unleash the most concentrated salt the the world of Valoran had ever seen and will probably ever see, and it disintegrated Fiora instantly.

To be continued


End file.
